


fine line

by odasakunosuke



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Established Relationship, Linhardt gets hurt and Byleth loses it, M/M, Major Character Injury, Other Characters - Freeform, Post-Time Skip
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-26
Updated: 2020-02-26
Packaged: 2021-02-18 23:16:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,418
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22901416
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/odasakunosuke/pseuds/odasakunosuke
Summary: Byleth soon forgot about what happened, but every time his eyes landed on Linhardt, this uncomfortable feeling in his chest returned and made him look away. He didn't know what it was, but he didn't like it at all.He wished Sothis would've never left him.
Relationships: Linhardt von Hevring/My Unit | Byleth
Kudos: 78





	fine line

As soon as he woke up, Byleth knew that something was off. He hadn't dreamt of anything during those five years he had been asleep, and his nights had just been full of darkness and emptiness ever since he had reunited with his students. He didn't think much about it, to be honest. He had always been different from the others, and he thought that not dreaming was probably better than being haunted by dreams like Edelgard's.

But this morning, his fringe was sticking uncomfortably to his forehead because of sweat, his chest felt extremely tight and he was shaking. He looked around him rapidly, a relived sigh escaping his mouth when he realized he was in his bedroom, and safe. Slowly, he hugged his knees and buried his face between them until he felt like he could breathe normally again.

He tried to remember, but everything was so confused. There were screams, his students', or maybe his, and there was blood, a huge amount of it. It shouldn't be so unfamiliar and scary to him. He was used to it, after all. He had killed more people than he could count, and he knew the feeling of washing blood off his body better than anything else in the world. But those screams, this feeling of _fear_ , all of that was new to him.

Someone knocked at his door. Byleth rubbed his hands against his face in order to gain some composure before telling whoever was standing behind that door to come in.

Linhardt opened the door just wide enough for his head to pass and peered around, brows furrowing when his eyes landed on his half-naked professor. Soon enough, he was standing in the middle of the room with a blank, yet careful expression on his face as he lit a candle on Byleth's desk.

“Good morning.” Byleth said. Linhardt didn't answer. He stepped closer until he was standing next to his bed and pulled his fringe up with one hand before putting the other on his forehead. Byleth unconsciously leaned in his touch.

“You look like you've seen a ghost.” Linhardt observed.

Byleth wrapped his arms around his partner's middle and put his head against his stomach, breathing the comforting scent in. “Maybe I did.”

“Shall we talk about it?” Linhardt's hands found his hair and played with it as Byleth shook his head.

“Allow me to stay like this for a moment.”

After meeting again after five years, Byleth had slowly come to the realization that his feelings for Linhardt were different from his feelings for everyone else. He was always looking for the other man, always yearning to have tea with him until he fell asleep, always wanting to stay as close to him as possible.

Ever since that day, years ago, when Linhardt confessed he hated blood and never wanted to kill again, and when Byleth promised him he'd do anything in his power to protect him, he knew that there was something special about him. He was honest, passionate when he wanted to, and Byleth felt so at ease around him. It was like he could just act like a normal person with him.

Linhardt told him about his feelings on a sunny afternoon when they were having tea. Byleth was so surprised at the sudden confession that he chocked on his tea, and the laugh that came out of Linhardt's mouth remains the most beautiful thing he has ever heard. After that, they took things slow, meeting more often than before, holding hands from time to time and spending nights in each other's room.

Which eventually led to this, Linhardt sometimes sneaking in his bedroom in the early hours of morning so that they could have a little bit of free time together. He stayed with him as Byleth got dressed, cringing at the dark rings under his eyes, and they both made their way to the dining hall to have breakfast.

Byleth soon forgot about what happened, but every time his eyes landed on Linhardt, this uncomfortable feeling in his chest returned and made him look away. He didn't know what it was, but he didn't like it at all.

He wished Sothis would've never left him.

It ended up being a pretty normal day, he spent more time with his students, had tea with Linhardt and Lysithea who allowed herself take a break from studying after Byleth proposed her to try a brand new cake, and then he trained a little bit with Felix who was becoming stronger than before. It wouldn't take too long before he could really rival his own skills.

Then, it started to rain, black clouds chasing the sun away and the temperature dropping. The atmosphere suddenly became gloomy, and everybody's plans were ruined. It annoyed him because he had planned to go fishing, but soon enough,Catherine ran up to him and begged him for his help.

Apparently, some bandits were attacking a nearby village and had even managed to control some mysterious creatures. Byleth and his students' help was required, and of course, he didn't hesitate before agreeing.

Maybe, for once, he should've had.

Once his students were reunited, he explained the situation briefly and they all made their way to the battle. They were all drenched because of the pouring rain, and Hilda didn't stop complaining about how terrible her fringe looked all the way there. There were cold, stressed about the upcoming battle, and just wanted to go home.

What they saw once they arrived made them gasp.

Despite the heavy rain, blue, big and powerful flames were threatening to burn everything around them. Some bandits were riding those creatures Catherine mentioned, and others were busy plundering all the houses they could find. Some kids were crying as they watched their houses burning, and this vision of horror made something snap in Byleth's mind.

There was no time for a plan. “Let's go.” He said, hand already on his sword.

“Yes!” His students responded at the same time, clearly determined to put an end to this atrocity.

The battle was nothing knew. What was new was the way the rain and the wind were so strong he could barely keep his eyes open, and that the poor visibility didn't allow them to see from where the enemies were coming. He could still hear everything though, the laughs of the bandits proudly stealing the jewels and gold of an innocent family, the surprised screams of his students when an enemy attacked them, the dying sounds of the third creature he killed.

He had to use divine pulse many, many times. It seemed like the number of enemies never lessened, and soon, he found himself breathlessly looking at the battlefield like he thought he was going to die here. He had seen Sylvain, fighting by his side, falling multiple times and always went back in time to save him, because he knew he wouldn't last for long if Sylvain happened to die. Plus, Felix would probably lost it at the sight of his dead partner and would sacrifice himself too, not bearing the pain.

Byleth was exhausted. They all were. Those scary-looking creatures were a pain, but there was only one of them left and Ashe had just successfully killed it. Dealing with the bandits would be easier, considering that apart from swinging a sword from left to right, they didn't really do much.

Linhardt had stayed a few meters away from him too, healing him when needed. The poor boy had his eyes filled with tears when they landed on some thieves' dead bodies leaving behind by Byleth, and the ex-mercenary really wished he wouldn't have to see this.

He hoped that one day, they'd be able to retire to the countryside and enjoy some peaceful time together.

But for now, they still had to take care of those remaining enemies. The children and villagers had been safety evacuated, and it wouldn't be too long before the end of this battle which turn out to be another victory despite their struggle.

The fires had ceased, but it only made the temperature colder. Every muscle of his body yelled at Byleth to stay still, as he pushed back another enemy before slaying them for what seemed the hundredth time during this battle. Most of his students were safe and uninjured, which was a good thing. The others hadn't been too badly wounded, and usually, Byleth would've found this relieving, but not today.

That uneasy feeling had never disappeared from Byleth's chest and what happened next made it worse.

He heard a scream, the one who had been haunting him ever since he woke up, and turned around. Linhardt was standing there, the magic coming out of his hands flickering before completely disappearing, a thin trail of blood falling from his lips.

His left shoulder had been pierced by a lance, and when the bandit holding it pulled it back, Linhardt's eyes met with Byleth before he fell on the muddy ground, as pale as the moon in the middle of the night.

Byleth used divine pulse. At least, he tried to. He could only go back in time to where Linhardt's eyes locked with his own, before collapsing again, and it felt like a nightmare. His breathing was harsh, and he couldn't hear anything apart from the buzzing in his ears which only grew stronger and stronger until it became unbearable. He tried to use his power again, once, twice, thrice. He begged Sothis to do something, to help him, but nobody answered him. He was all alone, and before he knew it, he blacked out.

When he came back to his senses, he was next to Linhardt, blood everywhere on him and dripping from his sword, mixing with Linhardt's. Sylvain, who had watched the whole thing, couldn't do a thing when he saw the light disappear from his teacher's eyes as he made his way to Linhardt, killing every enemy who dared to attack him without flinching and even stabbing the one who had hurt Linhardt more than necessary.

They had won, and yet, it felt like a defeat.

“Linhardt.” Byleth's floor hit the ground and he fell on his knees. “Linhardt. _Lin_.” The professor put a hand on his injured shoulder and winced at the amount of blood. His other hand touched his lover's cold cheek. He was shaking.

His entire body felt heavy, he thought he was going to sink into the ground. The rain hadn't stopped, which caused Linhardt's body temperature to drop faster than he'd have liked, and Byleth could almost feel him dying in his arms.

This scene reminded him of his father's death, and he felt the urge to throw up. The feeling he hated so much in his chest started to suffocate him, and he could feel his eyes burning with tears.

Soon, he was screaming. He didn't know what he was saying, Linhardt's name, pleas of staying with him. At some point, he heard himself shouting to Sylvain to go get Mercedes, and the young lady arrived what seemed like hours later but in reality, had arrived in the spawn of a few minutes.

“Professor.” She tried, putting a reassuring hand on Byleth's back. “Please step back, I can heal him.” Byleth didn't move, hands refusing to leave Linhardt's body and even putting more pressure on it, causing more blood to escape from his wound. He felt that if he happened to let go of him, he'd vanish too. “Sylvain, Felix, please.”

Someone, Felix he guessed, grabbed him by the collar of his armor and pulled him back. His body, acting on his own, tried to go back to where Mercedes had crouched, but Sylvain wrapped his arms around his neck and waist and held him against him until he stopped moving, fixing Linhardt's face with the same empty eyes.

Byleth was thrown back to how he was before coming to the monastery. It was as if all his emotions had been taken away from him, and the only thing he could do was to stare at the man he loved without really wanting to face the harsh reality. His body was there, but his inner-self had completely disappeared.

“We need to take him to Manuela.” Mercedes announced. “I can stop the bleeding, but he still needs his wound to get checked and carefully treated.”

She cast a spell on his shoulder, the silhouette of her crest floating above the injured area, in order to stop more blood from leaving his body. Byleth pushed Sylvain away from him and took a step forward. “I'll carry him.” He stated, hands shaking in fear and exhaustion.

“I don't think that's a good idea,” Mercedes hesitantly glanced at her professor from head to toe. “You're... Not in a good shape either, Professor. ”

At these words, Byleth suddenly took notice of the difference wounds on his body: multiple cuts here and there, dried blood tainting his left temple and a part of his hair, probably one or two broken ribs which made him cough in pain, and this dizzy feeling due to overusing diving pulse.

“Oh.” His eyelids felt heavy. He stumbled backward and fell against Sylvain's chest whose hands gripped his shoulders to give him some balance. “I... I should've been more...”

“It's not your fault, professor.” That was Felix's voice. He was next to Linhardt and carefully lifted him in his arms, ready to carry him back to the monastery.

 _It is,_ Byleth wanted to say. He hadn't thought much about a strategy, so they just fought without a plan. If he had planned something, if he had given the right orders, he wouldn't have exhausted his divine power and Linhardt wouldn't have been hurt. All of them would've been safe.

But he didn't say it. He was surprisingly cut off when Sylvain lifted him in the air like he was weighting nothing as they slowly made their way back. He hadn't really paid attention to how tired he actually was, but now, despite his body screaming in agony, he felt himself falling asleep.

 _I'm sorry_ , he thought. _I'm sorry I couldn't protect you like I promised_.

He could almost hear Linhardt's chuckle, telling him not to worry too much about him. Yet, Byleth was worrying. He was so freaked out he thought he could die from a heart attack, even if it wasn't beating. That would be a first in history, and at this point, he was ready to risk it all if it meant going back in time and saving him.

But he hoped, that maybe, before passing away, he could see Linhardt one last time.

*

The first sense that came back to him was his hearing. He recognized Manuela's voice, who was talking to someone who sounded like Dorothea. He blinked, one, two, three times, before succeeding in keeping his eyes open. The groan coming from his mouth had the effect he had hoped for: the two women immediately looked at him and where next to him in a fraction of seconds.

Dorothea's delicate hands helped him to sit up straight, and Manuela made him swallow a pill and a glass of water. A glance at his right, and he found Mercedes sleeping soundly in the bed next to him. After helping so many injured people, she must've been exhausted too, which really was no surprise.

“What time is it?” He asked, voice hoarse. His ribs were hurting him, but that wasn't a foreign feeling. It wasn't the first time he had broken them, and it wouldn't be the last one. The uncomfortable feeling in his chest, causing him to feel anxious and lost, was worse than before.

“Almost one in the morning, the bells rang some time ago to announce midnight.” Dorothea turned around and stroked a strand of hair behind Mercedes' hair before looking back at him. It was like she read him like an open book, because she answered the question that was about to fall from his lips before he could even think about it. “Linny's in his bedroom.”

“What about his wound?”

Manuela gathered a couple of flasks and handed them to Byleth. “Thanks to Mercedes, it wasn't as bad as I thought it would be. I can't heal broken bones, as you know, but he'll feel better in a few weeks.”

Byleth pushed the blankets away from him and managed to stand up despite how much his legs were shaking. The bandage around his waist was firmly wrapped, preventing him from moving too much, but he still grabbed a clean poofy shirt and put it on. “Professor, you should rest. It's late anyway, you'll-”

“I want to see him.” Byleth stated, hands already reaching for his boots. “I _need_ to see him.”

Manuela sighed, and so did Dorothea, but none of them decided to go against his will. It's not like they could stop him even if they wanted to. Byleth thanked them for everything, promised to take the medicine Manuela had given him, and painfully made his way to Linhardt's room.

It was pitch dark outside, and not a sound could be heard apart from the ruffling of the leaves the the owls flying from tree to tree. He didn't see anyone, except Sylvain and Felix who were hugging each other in the yard, and it sounded like Sylvain was crying. This wasn't new either. Byleth knew better than anyone else that his students hated this war, hated all this violence and injustice. If he could, he'd have stopped it a long time ago, but after all, he was just a human, too.

Going to Linhardt's room always made him feel excited and impatient, but for the first time, Byleth took a few seconds and stared at the closed door in front of him, not daring to open it. He had failed him, had broken their promise, and he didn't really know if he was ready to face him now.

Byleth was still unused to this amount of emotions. He had learned about love, sorrow, pain, happiness, and all kind of other feelings, but he hated fear and regret the most. It made him feel like a coward, and all he wanted was to run away, him who was known to be dauntless and untouchable.

The door, as he opened it, felt heavier than before. Soon, his eyes fell on Linhardt who, just like Mercedes, was sleeping enough for an entire week.

He carefully closed it after stepping in, took his boots off and even tidied up some books that could lead to him stumbling on them and making more noise than intended. Linhardt's face looked like an angel's, pale, beautiful, flawless skin, long eyelashes and hair forming a halo around his head, Byleth fell in love once again.

Byleth grazed his fingers over the bandages on Linhardt's shoulder, chest and bicep, which made it almost impossible for him to move, probably for the better. He could already imagine the scar under them that would always remind him of his failure and haunt him for a lot of upcoming nights, that is if he managed to fall asleep.

His hand rested on Linhardt's cheek, who leaned into the touch. His eyes slowly opened, and it took him some time to figure out where he was and what had happened, but when he looked at Byleth, it seemed like all his doubts had faded away.

“Don't cry.” He whispered, a pained smile on his lips. Linhardt lifted his uninjured arm in the air and whipped Byleth's tears away with the back of his hand. He hadn't even realized he was crying, but maybe he had been ever since he had entered the bedroom. The last time he cried was when Jeralt died, and despite knowing that Linhardt was alive and well, the regret in his chest hadn't disappeared and just made it worse. He felt like exploding.

A choked sob echoed, and soon, Byleth's head was pressed against Linhardt's chest while his lover was patiently running his hand through his hair until Byleth calmed down. The only words leaving Byleth's mouth were _I'm sorry_ again and again, as if maybe, saying it multiple times would lead to forgiving himself. He already knew that Linhardt didn't hold a grudge against him, the poor boy definitely felt sorry for worrying him.

He didn't really know why he was crying. It was almost new to him, and yet, he felt sad. About his dad, who he couldn't save. About Linhardt, who almost lived the same tragic fate. About his students, who died in front of his eyes countless of times. Byleth had enough, he had always carried his duty, his fate, his _burden_ with pride but sometimes, events like today's happened and made him realize how awful it was, and how hard it was on him. He was still so young, after all. 

At some point, Byleth found himself lying next to him. He had stopped crying and was holding Linhardt close to him while making sure not touch his wounded shoulder. “It's alright.” His lover repeated for the third time after Byleth apologized once again. “It's not that bad.”

“I swore to protect you, and you got hurt.” Byleth's face was full of self-disgust.

Linhardt bumped their noses together and brushed his thumb against Byleth's jaw. “You've always been protecting me. I would've died, if it wasn't for you taking care of the bandits ready to attack me again.” Byleth opened his mouth to argue, but Linhardt pinched him slightly to make him stop. “Not only did you protect me, but you also protected us all despite how unprepared we were. You did your best: I'm alive, you're alive, everybody is, it's alright.”

It wasn't. Byleth wouldn't allow himself to think so until Linhardt could move his arm again. So yeah, maybe he had saved Sylvain's life a lot of times, and maybe things could've been worse, but still. Linhardt's scream, the puddle of blood under his unconscious body, Byleth knew he'd never be able to forget those.

He couldn't do anything for his father, and he couldn't do anything for the one he loved. He felt helpless, and he wondered if he had never agreed to teach here, things would've been different. Maybe this war would've never started, and maybe all of his students would've lived a happy life. Sure, he'd have lived his as a mercenary, but Byleth was willing to sacrifice himself if it could make people's lives better. 

He had never intended to fall for Linhardt so hard, and yet, ever since their relationship had started, he had made so wonderful memories. The amount of kisses they've exchanged, the endless nights they spent memorizing every mole and scar on each other's naked bodies, the laughters they've shared, the meals they prepared... Byleth had dared to imagine a life without Linhardt, and it seemed plain, and worthless. 

So, when he thought Linhardt was going to die, he believed his worst fear would become true. He couldn't picture his life without him, because that'd just be full of darkness and regrets, the total opposite of the bright, somehow cheerful life they shared despite being in the middle of the way. 

His hands started shaking a little again, at the thought.

“Byleth.” He said. “Let's look at this from the bright side, shall we, my dear? I get to stay in bed for at least three weeks, and you now have an excuse to bring me all my meals here and to spend more time with me. Because, I am indeed a wounded person. Nobody would complain about you taking care of me.”

Well. He wasn't wrong. He could already imagine themselves taking naps in the afternoon together because 'healing is _so_ exhausting.' He'd have preferred to do this while being in good shape, but if Linhardt wanted him to stop sulking, then maybe, for tonight, he could try.

Byleth cradled Linhardt's face in his hands and dropped kisses on his forehead, his cheeks, his nose, his chin and lastly his lips. He kissed him softly, to apologize, to reassure both his lover and himself, to make up for what happened and to promise one more time that he'll never, never let Linhardt get hurt again.

“You...” Byleth frowned. “Mean everything to me. I used to feel nothing on the battlefield before, but when I heard you, _saw_ _you_ , it was like I had lost everything dear to me again.”

 _Again_. Linhardt hated to think about Byleth's life. He had no childhood memories, no mother, no friends before joining the monastery, no knowledge of basic feelings and relationships, and just when he had started to live his own, wanted life, his father's death caused him to go through some unexpected emotions and changes. Linhardt knew that sometimes, Byleth thought his existence was a curse, and he wished he could make these negative thoughts go away.

“I love you. It sometimes scares me.” Linhardt chuckled at Byleth's honesty.

“You're not going to lose me.”

“I won't let that happen.” Linhardt's smile, a real, bright, amused smile, settled on his face. He knew Byleth meant it, and that made him feel really happy. “When all of this is over, we'll move to the countryside and I'll make sure you can take all the naps you've been waiting for.” Now, this sounded like a promise they would both protect.

“Whatever you want, Byleth.” Their hands met, and their fingers intertwined. “If it's with you, I'll go anywhere. But please, for now, let's just go to sleep and deal with this tomorrow.”

Byleth brought their fingers to his mouth, and kissed Linhardt's. “Your wish is my command.” If possible, they snuggled closer to each other and finally, Byleth felt warm. There, in his lover's bed, surrounded by his smell, his presence, he felt at ease.

He felt at home.

The next days will be rough, he knew that. They still had many threats to face, upcoming battles to take part in, and none of them knew how long it was going to last. It would hurt Byleth to see Linhardt being incapable of moving too much because of his injury, and regrets would eventually settle back in his stomach.

And yet, at this very instant, embracing the person he loved the most and listening to his steady heartbeat, it seemed like the two lovers were invincible as long as they were together.

**Author's Note:**

> Hello there, thank you for reading! It's my first time writing a fe3h fic, so I hope you liked it! I'll probably modify this later and add a few things, but it's 1am, I'm not really good at writing fighting scenesn I'm exhausted, and yet I still wanted to post this today
> 
> Kudos and comments are always appreciated!
> 
> here is my [twitter](https://twitter.com/akechjgoro) and my [cc](https://curiouscat.me/Iinhardt)


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